


Overwhelmed

by writeskatelive



Category: Figure Skating - Fandom
Genre: F/M, figure skating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-04-06 15:47:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19065709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writeskatelive/pseuds/writeskatelive
Summary: Sui/Han have to pretend they’re in love and eventually end up actually falling in love.





	1. Chapter 1

Wenjing was laughing. Not the adorable laugh she made when she saw pictures of little children wearing rough, homemade versions of their Turandot costumes. Not the halfhearted, annoyed laugh she gave Cong when he cracked yet another stupid joke. Not the low, flirty laugh she made when she said something sassy. A full-blown, unadulterated, out-of-control fit of hysterics, her head thrown back, her eyes watering.

Cong was staring at her with an expression between concern and amusement, one corner of his mouth quirked up. Coach Zhao stood perfectly stoic, his arms crossed, and Ms. Nichol wore a knowing smile that made Wenjing uncomfortable.

"Romeo and Juliet?" Wenjing could barely speak through her laughter. "April Fool's Day was last week."

"No, we're serious," said Coach Zhao. "Just listen to Ms. Nichol's idea. Personally, I think it's quite promising."

Wenjing frowned. "Okay, okay. I'm dying to know how this is a good idea."

Ms. Nichol smiled. "Well, we need something iconic for the Olympic season. Something dramatic, passionate, powerful."

"Because Romeo and Juliet really is a new revelation for figure skating," Wenjing muttered.

"Obviously, it's not the most original soundtrack, but I found a few beautiful cuts that would look simply divine with your skating."

Cong smirked. "Although let's be honest: everything looks divine with our skating!"

Ms. Nichol laughed. "The man has a point. I think we should at least try the program for you two, are you on board?"

Wenjing frowned. "Okay, fine. But when it flops, don't say I didn't warn you. What's the big deal about Romeo and Juliet anyways? They both die. What's the point?"

"Because it's the greatest love story ever told," said Cong, smiling as though he was pleased with himself for coming to that conclusion. "Seriously, you need to read more."

She stuck out her tongue at him.

"I'll handle them," Coach Zhao said to Ms. Nichol, looking almost apologetic that the kids were getting out of hand again. He looked at Wenjing and Cong, then jerked his head to the side, indicating for them to step aside to talk privately. "Come on, let's discuss this."

Wenjing started to follow him immediately, determined to find some good reason for this insane suggestion. There had to be some explanation.

Coach Zhao put one hand around Wenjing's elbow and the other on Cong's back. "Look, I was talking to the Chinese Olympic committee, and they have a...a vision for you this season. They want to present you like one of the great Chinese pairs of the past. Legends. Like...star-crossed lovers."

Wenjing's eyes practically rolled out of her head. She wanted to say something, but she was choking on the insanity of the idea. Cong raised his eyebrows, but he didn't shudder in disgust, which was the only suitable reaction in her opinion.

She frowned at Coach Zhao. "Yeah, because nothing says 'love story' like me and Dad Cong. Okay, what's the real reason?"

"I'm serious. They think it'll work, and they told me to explain the whole plan to you and Ms. Nichol. They want to present you as not only a great success story, but as a great love story."

Wenjing wrinkled her nose. "Why don't they ask Cheng and Yang to be their picture-perfect couple? They've been dating for a year now!"

"Cheng and Yang can't bring home the Olympic gold medal," said Coach Zhao. "You have the look. You have the talent. And you have the charm the fans want."

"Well, we've been managing just fine without a whit of chemistry for the past umpteen years. Why do they suddenly want us to start now?"

"They need stories for the Olympics. And what's better than a pair who wins the Olympics, then spends the rest of their lives together?" Coach Zhao smiled. "It worked perfectly for Xue and me."

Wenjing blew air out of her lips, creating a low sputter. "So, what, we're supposed to parade around holding hands and gushing over each other whenever the cameras are around, like in The Hunger Games?"

"You know," said Cong, "at the end of The Hunger Games, Katniss and Peeta really did end up falling in love."

She scowled, turning to glare at him. "That was a book, Cong. Can't you see what they're doing here? They're trying to turn us into a Chinese Virtue and Moir. A ship people will go crazy for. They'll be naming our future children and picking out our honeymoon destination."

"How about Aruba?" said Cong. "I hear it has great beaches."

She elbowed him in the gut.

Coach Zhao sighed. "Just try to get along for the cameras, okay? This could be the difference between a gold medal and nothing."

She folded her arms. "Well, it's a sad statement when the Olympic gold medal is decided by the state of the couple's sex lives."

Cong held up his hands and took a few steps back. "Wait, wait, wait, nobody told me there was sex involved."

"Cong," Coach Zhao said with warning, before Wenjing could slap him. "Nobody said you two actually have to start dating. It's a role you play in public. Now, should I tell Ms. Nichol to start choreographing the free program?"

Wenjing let out a humph. "Fine. But if it flops, we're getting a new program ASAP."

"Okay, fair." Coach Zhao made his way back to Ms. Nichol, who was waiting patiently by the boards. The minute he was out of earshot, Wenjing shoved Cong hard in the chest.

"What's gotten into you? What, you think it's funny? They've all gone mad!"

He shrugged. "It's not going to be too bad. The fans will go crazy for the smallest things. A handful of public appearances, a little hand-holding, and maybe a few compliments regarding your devilishly handsome partner. Come on, let's try it. Tell me how sexy I am."

She burst out laughing. "I can't do that! Stop it!"

He smiled and raised one eyebrow. "Ah, so what you're trying to say is that there aren't words in the Chinese language to describe just how sexy I am."

"Don't flatter yourself." She swaggered away from him, down to Coach Zhao and Ms. Nichol. "Okay, let's start working on this program so we'll have plenty of time to choreograph a new one when it flops."


	2. Chapter 2

Months passed with no trouble. Wenjing and Cong practiced the Romeo and Juliet program until Wenjing had blisters inside her ears from hearing "Kissing You" echoing in the empty rink. It wasn't the worst song, but the whole plot was so mind-numbing that she wanted to stab herself with Juliet's dagger so she wouldn't have to skate the program all year.

She was hoping Coach Zhao would forget the hare-brained idea of making them pretend to be in love and let her and Cong just skate in peace. Besides the whole lame program itself, they hadn't done any of the ridiculous publicity stunts she had been expecting.

But hope is a foolish thing.

"Okay, you two." Coach Zhao took Wenjing's hand and interlaced it with Cong's. They were standing at the door to the press conference room, and Wenjing could hear the clamor of reporters setting up their equipment. "This is your first chance to show the public how much you love each other."

"Of course we love each other," said Wenjing. "Like family. F-A-M-I-L-Y. As in, I'm really not into that whole Cersei-Jaime thing." She propped one elbow on Cong's shoulder, facing Coach Zhao. "I mean, look at us. We're practically the ShibSibs."

"Hold up there!" Cong slipped out from underneath her arm. "You mean I got promoted from dad to brother again? Dang, this cologne must be working even better than I thought."

Coach Zhao sighed. "I'm not trying to tell you what to do, even though technically that's what I get paid to do. You two are old enough to make your own decisions. But when the Chinese Olympic Committee makes a request, it's a good idea to take it as an order."

"Fine." Wenjing grabbed Cong's hand in the air as if she was about to arm-wrestle him. "We'll do it. We'll go in there and play Mickey and Minnie for the hour. See, we're holding hands. Just like a couple."

"Wenjing, wrong hand," Cong whispered.

With an exasperated sigh, she dropped his right hand and took his left. His fingers squeezed around hers, almost reassuring.

"Okay, we're going in," she said, feeling like a soldier about to run out of the trenches into No Man's Land. "A happy couple, just like you said. But when I get back, there'd better be an Oscar for Best Actress waiting for me."

Cong frowned at Coach Zhao. For a minute, she thought he was going to refuse to do this whole stupid stunt. But instead he said, "Save an Oscar for me too, okay? I've got the Best Supporting Actor in this gig."

Coach Zhao rolled his eyes. "Just try to act like you're actually enjoying it, okay? You look like you've just been drafted."

Ignoring him, Wenjing and Cong turned to face the door.

"Are you ready, sweetheart?" Cong's voice was so convincing she almost took a step back.

Wenjing moved her hair out of her eyes. "Watch it, Romeo, or I might have to drive you so crazy that you'll drink poison just so you can die at my feet." Still holding his hand, she elbowed him.

"Well, try not to throw yourself on any daggers over my good looks." He smiled, like the rogue he was, and opened the door.

They stepped into the conference room, a sea of microphones and cameras with a long table standing like a barricade between them and the reporters. There was an audible gasp as the group caught sight of their clasped hands. As they slipped into their chairs, Cong kissed Wenjing's left cheek, right above the cheekbone.

It was the briefest flash of a kiss, but it sent chills across her bare arms. His lips were warm and gentle on her skin, like a firefly landing on her face only to flutter away a second later. Her legs were trembling underneath her, and she fell into her chair rather than sitting down comfortably.

"Well, hello, everyone," Cong said into the microphone. "Sorry about that, force of habit. I want to thank you all for coming to our press conference. Your support means everything to us, and we are so happy to call you part of our family. I love you." As he said "I love you", his eyes darted to Wenjing. "What about you, Empress Wenjing?"

She was shaking, but she smiled at the crowd of reporters. "I'm so grateful for all of you. And my family and friends who have supported me all the way..." She swallowed. "And my very sweet partner."

The press settled down and started asking questions about the new programs, about the coaching team, about Wenjing's hair. Then a young man asked the question everyone had been waiting for.

"Wenjing, you and Cong have such a natural chemistry on the ice. This season, you've chosen Romeo and Juliet, one of the greatest love stories of all time, as your free program. Did you choose this program to reflect your current relationship, or is this strictly a professional choice?"

Wenjing swallowed. She would've liked to have shrank into her seat and let Cong do the talking, but the reporter had outright addressed her. Taking a deep breath, she tried to channel her inner actress.

"Well, Cong and I have always been very close. But this season, we have become close in a new way, and we wanted to explore that in our performances." Her heart was pounding in her ears and her cheeks were flushed, so she added, "Every year, we are constantly trying to reinvent ourselves, skate to new themes. This year, the theme...it's just us."

A cheer rose from the reporters. The echo of their joy startled Wenjing's heart, and she took several short breaths through her nose. She had done it. She had lied to all of them, and they were clapping for her.

Cong leaned over in his chair and whispered, "That's a good one, honey."

She wanted to smack him, but the cameras were still on, so she gave him a gritted-teeth smile, something she was going to be using frequently in the next several months.


	3. Chapter 3

The moment they left the conference room, Wenjing snacked Cong's arm. He stumbled, and she shoved him again, harder. It was all too satisfying to see him wince.

"What did you think you were doing?" she hissed.

"Acting, of course. Like I was supposed to. I was doing a good job, wasn't I?" He put his hands on his hips and looked back at Coach Zhao, his chin stick out as if he was modeling. "James Dean was found unemployed."

Coach Zhao shook his head. "The whole point of this idea was to bring you two together, not turn you into Daffy Duck and Bugs Bunny."

Cong frowned. "Well, that depends. Can I be Bugs Bunny? 'Cause it doesn't end well for Daffy Duck."

"Who cares?" Wenjing scowled. "Stop trying to change the subject. If we're going to pretend we're as chummy as Laverne and Shirley, we need to set some ground rules."

"Laverne and Shirley?" Cong raised his eyebrows. "But they were both-"

"Never mind!" Wenjing snapped. Why were men so infuriating? Seriously, the ISU needed to allow same-sex pairs ASAP so she could skate with an actual intellectual. "Tony and Pepper, Steve and Peggy, Star-Lord and Gamora." When Cong blinked in confusion, she was tempted to knock him flat on his back. "You really have never seen any of the Avengers movies?"

Coach Zhao folded his arms and started walking down the hall that led out of the building. "I give up. Both of you are utterly impossible."

Cong glanced at their coach's back, then at Wenjing. "Look, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable in there. I thought that's what the press wanted."

She clenched her fist. "Oh, that's exactly what the press wanted. They're eating it up. They're probably putting photos of that kiss all over Weibo by now. The press loves it. But I don't. So I'm gonna need you to back off instead of waving my dirty laundry out there for all to see."

"Dirty laundry?" He laughed. "Little Sui, little Sui. That's not dirty laundry. That's a sweater you wear for a couple hours and put back in the closet because it's still perfectly clean."

She wrinkled her nose. "Ew, I was wondering why you always smell like that."

"Hey now." He reached down to ruffle her hair, and she twisted out of reach. "But seriously, it's just a kiss. It's not like I told them about those passionate nights in Newport Beach last summer. Which never happened, of course."

"Well, how am I supposed to explain this to my mom? She'll want to know everything! She's as nosy as I am! Why, the last time I went out with a guy, she demanded to know every single detail of the date. For two hours."

"Whew-wee." Cong let out a long whistle. "I imagine that was an interesting conversation as the night went on. You know, it's not normal to tell your mom all the juicy details."

"Cong!" She slapped his arm. "It was the first date! What kind of person does it on the first date?"

He blushed. "I wasn't implying that. I just...never mind. Okay, why don't you just tell your mom that it's for publicity?"

"I did, months ago. But nobody told me it was going to require making out on camera!"

"Making out? It was just—never mind. I'll deal with your mom if things get too sticky. But what am I supposed to do if the press wants me to kiss you again?"

"Then ask me first so I know it's coming!"

He sighed. "Okay, then. Wenjing, can I kiss you?"

"Of course not!"

Cong rolled his eyes. "Coach Zhao is right. You are impossible."

"Well, I get it from my big brother, of course."

He frowned. "No Oscar for you, Little Sui. You can't even make it half an hour without family-zoning me."

She rolled her eyes. "It's big brothers like you that brought on the one-child policy."

He elbowed her, and she elbowed back, encouraging another nudge from him as they made their way to the car. Coach Zhao was sitting in the driver's seat, the engine running.

"There you are," he said. "Are you done killing each other for the day, or do I need to strap one of you to the roof so you don't have to sit next to each other?"

"Yes please do." Wenjing pusher Cong from behind, offering him up like a sacrificial lamb.

"Wait a minute," said Cong. "It's scientifically wiser to put the skinnier person on top. Sorry, Little Sui, but I'm pretty sure that's you. I've got a little more booty back there. Though I ain't complaining."

He stuck out his butt as though to make a point. Rolling her eyes, Wenjing slapped it. Coach Zhao's eyebrows almost shot off his head.

"The heaviest thing on you is your big head," she muttered. "Get in, Cong, before the press sees us bickering and catches on."

"After you," said Cong, opening up the back door for her.

She slid in and smiled up at him. "I love you, big brother."


	4. Chapter 4

The moment they hit the closing pose, the crowd leaped to their feet as one, drowning out the last note of the music.

Cong pulled her against his chest, crushing her face into his shirt. Wenjing winced as her makeup smudged into the fabric, but it was his own fault. She could feel him almost shaking from joy, but inside, she was cursing.

Romeo and Juliet was a hit.

She pulled out of the embrace, spat on her hand, and tried to clean the makeup out of his shirt. He squirmed back, still grinning. “Hey, watch it.”

He held out his hand, and she tried her best to hold it and smile without cringing. Before the free skate, they had agreed to hold hands at the end of the performance. Honestly, Wenjing couldn’t object to it. It was reasonable.

As they skated over to the boards, Coach Zhao said, “Good job. Good job.” It sounded more like he was congratulating them on being good liars, not good skaters. Behind him, Ms. Nichol was beaming with pride.

Wenjing and Cong sat in the kiss-and-cry. Cautiously, he scooted closer, his hand hovering over her leg, until he finally set it down right above her knee. It wasn’t an unpleasant sensation. At least, not as unpleasant as getting dropped on your head.

Awkwardly, she placed her hand on top of his. Coach Zhao smiled in approval, sitting on the far end of the kiss-and-cry as if to give them privacy, and Ms. Nichol did the same. It felt like a perfectly posed photo shoot.

“The scores, please, for Wenjing Sui and Cong Han of the People’s Republic of China. They have earned 160.45 points in the free skate, which is a new season’s best for them. Their total competition is 241.02 points, which is also a new season’s best, and they are currently in first place. This concludes the pairs’ free skating.”

“Well, would you look at that?” said Ms. Nichol, a satisfied smile on her lips. “That’s what I call a success.”

Wenjing sighed. Now there was no denying it. The program was amazing and no one was going to suggest they change it. They would be skating this stupid story all season. They would be doing it at the Olympics. They would very likely win the Olympic gold medal skating this god-awful program.

It wasn’t all that unlike when Cong had suggested skating to “Rain in Your Black Eyes” and the whole team had agreed it was a wonderful idea, ignoring her logical point that if there was rain in your eyes, you wouldn’t be able to see, and if you couldn’t see, you couldn’t land your jumps. They had kept the program for two seasons, and with every performance, Wenjing had decided that if anyone was getting “black eyes” by the end of the season, it would be this trio who had convinced her to try it. But this was worse, much worse, a million times worse. This was like lying to China—no, the whole world. This was a betrothal; the wedding would follow.

Apparently, arranged marriage was still a thing.

Cong’s arms crashed in around her and startled her out of her panic. He pulled her into a hug, nearly flattening her hair in the process. Her head fell against his shoulder, and she hugged him back stiffly. Usually, she was more than happy to embrace him after a performance, but now that he had been turned into her love interest, she found the whole idea disgusting.

“Not bad, little Juliet,” he said. “See, I told you this program was a good idea.”

“I hate you,” she mumbled into his neck. But the words came out flat and meaningless, and he just laughed.

“Ah, that’s enough, that’s enough! How dare you defy your second dad Capulet like this?”

She couldn’t stop the laugh that spilled out of her mouth. The “second dad” jokes never got old. But Coach Zhao had told them to stop saying them in interviews. Apparently, it killed the whole “star-crossed lovers” plan. No kidding.

After two hours of press conferences, interviews, and photos, they arrived back at the hotel for the night. It was only seven-o-clock, so Wenjing decided to catch a snack with Cheng at the hotel café while Cong played video games with Boyang in Boyang’s room.

"Okay, I have to ask you something," said Cheng after the tea came. She leaned over the table and smiled, eager to hear a secret. "What's going on between you and Cong?"

"What do you mean, 'going on'?" said Wenjing.

Cheng laughed. "Don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about! I see you two holding hands and smiling at each other like that."

Wenjing laughed too, because it was ridiculous that someone actually believed that acting performance. "There's nothing going on between us."

"Oh, that means there's definitely something going on between you."

"No!" Wenjing reached over the table to slap Cheng's arm, and Cheng ducked, giggling. "It's called shipbaiting."

"Shipbaiting? That word makes no sense. It sounds like you're dangling a worm on a line. What are you trying to catch, a ship?"

"No, silly! It's when you act like you're in love even when you're not."

Cheng frowned, denting her little forehead. "Then why don't they just call it lying?"

"Because it's not lying."

"So you ARE in love with Cong."

"No! That's totally not what I meant."

Cheng kept teasing Wenjing through the entire meal, and by the end of the night, Wenjing's cheeks were burning with embarrassment. Even if she ever did have feelings for Cong (WHICH SHE DIDN'T), she would never go parading them around in public. She would tell him privately, with some kind of long sappy speech telling him what an amazing partner he was. She might even tell him he was the only man she didn't completely abhor. He would kiss her and tell her she was his one and only love, and they'd have a big fancy wedding that would put Crazy Rich Asians to shame.

Of course, this was a completely hypothetical situation.


End file.
